The Stencil

June 26, 2009

Newest Sabre

Zack Kassian.

Good heart on this kid. And I can relate to the dead father aspect of his story. I like the pick a lot.

Day After

Also: Fascinating perspective in this April 1984 New Republic essay by Michael Kinsley - tellingly entitled "The Prisoner of Commerce" - on Jackson's tragic corporatization. Check out the angry responses it provoked, too. Sharon Ladenson (age 10) told him good!

And, finally, the last word - over here, at least; and besides the music itself, thank god - the last word here comes from Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who writes today in the Jerusalem Post about his relationship with his friend Michael Jackson. It's a must-read - MJ met Elie Wiesel? - because it gets exactly to the worries Kinsley is highlighting above. It's the sad denouement that we shoulda seen coming.

Excerpt:

Michael's death is not just a personal tragedy, it is an American tragedy. Michael's story was the stuff of the American dream - a poor black boy who grows up in Gary, Indiana, and ends up a billionaire entertainer. But we now know how the story ends. Money is not a currency by which we can purchase self-esteem and being recognized on the streets will never replace being loved unconditionally by family and true friends.

Ok. RIP. We'll remember how we were little, and how we sang along and danced to his music. That's ok.

POSTSCRIPT: Ok ok ok. Last one, for real. Hua Hsu in The Atlantic with the definitive take of what yesterday night felt like in New York:

We ended up in a hotel lobby. Our friends were there. Greetings were exchanged. Two television monitors above them confirmed that Michael was dead. I pointed above their heads and said that Michael Jackson had just died--there was a strange, sick thrill in the telling, in the preemption of the hail of texts, emails and phone calls they would soon be receiving. Whispers of cardiac arrest, requistite observations about how weird he had become, pledges to pour some out for the King of Pop. We walked down the street in search of a bar, and on the corner of 32nd and Broadway, a beefy gent in shades and a Yankee tanktop bumped "Wanna be Startin' Something" from his car.

This is precise and exact and much appreciated:

Jackson was one of the last figures of our time who could, in his very presence, describe the possibilities of pop. He wasn't just the King--he was the entire domain, the rules and regulations, the dream-horizon of the citizenry, the place where the land met the heavens. Jackson was one of the first (and last) artists whose new videos, tours and albums were actual, global events, as when he debuted his "Black or White" video in 1991 after an episode of The Simpsons. This was the cultural history of the pre-digital age: simultaneity, mass worship, millions sitting in front of their TVs at the exact same moment. (The closest analogue now: millions around the world, sitting in front of their computers, carefully recomposing Michael's Wikipedia entry the moments after his death was made official.)

Emphasis mine, clarity his. Finally, winding up at Von to hear Sammy and Joe play Michael records, Hsu writes:

A few hours later, walking down Mott Street. A disheveled older man, curled up in a doorway blurts out: "Excuse me...is Michael Jackson really dead?" Yes, he is. We walk on, wondering whether he has been asking everyone who passes the same question. Maybe we have ruined his life.

I want to have one more drink and listen to some Michael Jackson. And so we end up at Von, the glee of the Jackson 5 beckoning us past the doorman. Downstairs, DJ Eleven and Sammy Bananas refuse to play Michael too early, but by midnight, the night's will is too strong. "Blame it on the Boogie," "Enjoy Yourself," "Smooth Criminal," "So Glad to Be Here," "Billie Jean," so many more, all necessary in a life-or-death way...

For twenty or so minutes, everything is cool. The songs remind us of ourselves--this is why they are important. Studying my parents' copy of Thriller, wondering for some reason if this guy was a family friend. Wondering, too, why there was a tiger in the centerfold. A night spent in front of the TV in anticipation of "Black and White." The next morning's recess and the blitz of crotch-grab demos. Dubbing cassettes. Jeff Koons' sculpture. Weird Al. Suddenly Janet seemed way cooler. Pulling records for a gig and remembering that the bar staff always loves to hear "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" while we count tips. That YouTube clip of Michael, Prince and James Brown. That time he showed up at the VMAs with Presley's daughter. Hours spent moonwalking in front of a mirror, never quite improving. And now this: a bar, strangers, "Human Nature," Macallan neat, getting older, a profound feeling of disappointment.

caps at 02:32 PM

June 25, 2009

RIP MJ

hero (6:04:21 PM): Michael FUCKING Jackson
hero (6:04:23 PM): WTF
caps (6:04:29 PM): damn
caps (6:04:32 PM): shocking
hero (6:04:35 PM): yeah
caps (6:04:48 PM): I feel empty about it somehow
caps (6:04:51 PM): it's too much!
hero (6:05:31 PM): ditto dude
caps (6:06:29 PM): this part is the worst... before the real confirmation'
caps (6:06:32 PM): jesus that happened fast
caps (6:06:41 PM): just some CTRL-F5 refreshes and POW
caps (6:06:42 PM): dead
hero (6:06:45 PM): yeah
hero (6:06:53 PM): the internet is crazy
caps (6:06:59 PM): doesn't feel real
hero (6:07:00 PM): it didn't take even an hour
hero (6:07:05 PM): for everyone in the world to know
caps (6:07:14 PM): I remember where I was when Biggie, Pac, Kurt Cobain
caps (6:07:17 PM): that all felt realer
caps (6:07:23 PM): this feels fucked up
hero (6:07:28 PM): yeah man
hero (6:07:37 PM): unreal.
caps (6:13:37 PM): http://tr.im/pMB4
caps (6:13:41 PM): LA Times says coma
hero (6:14:40 PM): oh
caps (6:14:44 PM): ????
caps (6:14:47 PM): looks bad tho
caps (6:15:01 PM): legitimate news sources - LA Times, etc - reportin that he wasn't breathin when they got him
caps (6:15:09 PM): he's done for I fear
hero (6:15:33 PM): yeah, i saw that too
hero (6:15:38 PM): i am gonna assume the worst
hero (6:15:43 PM): unfortunately
caps (6:15:43 PM): me too
hero (6:17:52 PM): man, what a shocker
hero (6:20:09 PM): LA Times updated
hero (6:20:17 PM): headline says "pronounced dead"
caps (6:20:22 PM): there ya go
caps (6:21:47 PM): somebody better get a picture of the body
caps (6:21:56 PM): lest he turn into Elvis or Pac on us
hero (6:22:15 PM): my dude made the same analogy
caps (6:23:03 PM): damn the drudge headline just made it real - that hits
hero (6:23:23 PM): yeah
hero (6:23:27 PM): man
hero (6:24:51 PM): i'll def remember this
caps (6:25:54 PM): damn stream CNN
caps (6:26:00 PM): crowds gathering at the hospital
hero (6:26:09 PM): i swear this news is going to break the internet
hero (6:26:15 PM): so many sites aren't even loading
caps (6:26:19 PM): yeah it's trembling right now
hero (6:26:33 PM): "michael jackson's death crashes internet"
caps (6:26:55 PM): Take it with you! Kill this ensnaring beast, Michael!!!! SAVE US FROM THE INTERNET
hero (6:27:04 PM): HAHAHHAH
caps (6:27:10 PM): they just went quiet on CNN
caps (6:27:13 PM): they are about to do the call
caps (6:27:19 PM): CNN confirms
caps (6:27:32 PM): CBS News confirms
hero (6:30:00 PM): cnn confirmed it?
caps (6:30:04 PM): yeah
caps (6:30:08 PM): CNN confirms
hero (6:30:13 PM): it still says coma when i go to cnn.com
caps (6:30:15 PM): Wolf just said it
caps (6:30:18 PM): I am streaming it
hero (6:30:20 PM): oh ok
caps (6:34:37 PM): suicide is the question now
hero (6:34:45 PM): o really?
hero (6:34:47 PM): jeez
caps (6:34:56 PM): sleeping pills
hero (6:35:27 PM): damn man
hero (6:35:33 PM): this is gonna be crazy
caps (6:35:54 PM): yeah I kinda hate this shit
caps (6:36:03 PM): the crush of remembrance
caps (6:36:06 PM): fuck
hero (6:36:18 PM): yeah

Maybe P says it best: "He was a legend and a sad man."

Michael Jackson Tribute Mix - DJ Ayres (2008)

caps at 07:03 PM

June 23, 2009

Tuesday PM

Two pictures and two links.

Via Mike.

Via yolene.

1. More Nixon tapes released. Christ was this dude ever bad news. On the latest batch of recording, he's raging against Jews (again) and says that interracial babies should be aborted.

2. Speaking of crazy wingnuts who somehow managed to get elected, there's a new comic book out about one of the contemporary examples of the species, Rep. Michelle Bachmann from Minnesota. Looks worthwhile.

caps at 05:53 PM

June 22, 2009

Monday PM

1. My man JP found me a treasure trove of truly excellent GIFs (pron. "jifs" - see previous entry) and goodness gracious they are spectacular. Seriously they made my night last night. Thanks homie. Check these out for sure because they're modern gifs - word to Courtney Melody - and they're spellbinding. My favorite one's up top.

2. Whoa. You gotta see this. "Body inflation" - aka saline injections that make you look like 1/10th of an Elephant Man. Via the Bloglin, of course, because the dudes are Mishka lovers, of course.

3. The closing quote of this article is hilarious.

4. Speaking of beer ads... My sister, who just graduated from MIT and doesn't have cable, was really bummed out a couple weeks back when she was watching the Lakers in the Finals and heard Santigold's "Lights Out" in a Budweiser ad for the first time. I had told her to buy the album when it first came out, cause I knew she'd love it, and she did buy it, and she did love it. And "Lights Out" was - is - her favorite song, and hearing it used to hawk Bud was pretty jarring for her. She called me up right then and there, as soon as she saw it, and she sounded outraged and kinda hurt even. I told her to chill out, that the song had been in ads all the way back to the beginning of football season, that Santi needs to get paid like everyone else, and that if she likes the song, who cares who else likes it? And I do feel like that - and least, I do feel like that sometimes. But a while after I hung up, I texted her to let her know that I know how she feels, too. Because I do. I was bummed out the first time I heard it in a Bud ad, too. Not mad at Santigold or anything, cause I know she needs to do what she needs to do and I'm sure as hell not the Integrity Police or Jesus Christ or the Dalai Lama or Neil Young. But still I remember the first time I saw it I was just kinda like, awwww man... this makes me feel funny. You know? And yeah, man, I know we're living through a weird time (end times?) for the record industry, and I know that revenue streams long since dried up and turned dusty, and that you gotta get your music out in front of people anyway you can, and that a paycheck is a paycheck. I hear all that. But yeah... I knew what my sister meant, and I wished she hadn't seen the ad.

I'm thinking about this apropos this new article by Seth Stevenson of Slate. Stevenson's my favorite advertising critic, and here he's writing about selling out generally and the new Black Eyed Peas ad for Target specifically.

First, I still hate when a piece of music I love - something that stirs profound emotions - gets directly associated with a brand or product. I want to believe that the art means just as much to the artist as it does to me. When a deeply moving song gets sold for an ad, it's like finding out that the cute girl you've been having long, philosophical conversations with at the coffeehouse spends her weekends turning tricks. Call me sentimental. Call me naive. It's just how I feel, and that will never change.

Second, and more important: We as a culture must reserve our right to shower disdain on the Black Eyed Peas.

I could do without the stale prostitution analogy, sure. And obviously accusing the Black Eyed Peas of selling out is like accusing Rush Limbaugh of being a loudmouth conservative jerk. Nothing new. (Stevenson acknowledges as much.) But still, while I understand the reasons for taking the cash and the exposure, I think ultimately I'm with Stevenson and my sister. I know, easy for me to say. It's not like Bud wants to sponsor el stence. Besides, I like Miller Lite, mostly b/c it's less filling and tastes great. Ahhhhh. Cold Miller Lite.

Anyways.

caps at 09:59 PM